A/N: I usually don't care for pure smut...but what the heck?
She stood in front of the ornate wooden mirror, watching her reflection finger a small hourglass connected to a necklace that lay around her neck. McGonagall had given her the time turner in her third year, and had left it with Hermione for three years and counting after that. Hermione didn't know if the Professor had forgotten about it or just assumed Hermione was responsible enough to keep it, but it had proved invaluable in the past year. The sixth-year smiled mischievously at the thought of her using it responsibly.
Many events had happened since she first used the time-turner to attend classes in identical time slots; Harry had won the Triwizard Tournament, Bill and Fleur had married, Sirius had died, and Hermione had started dating Ron.
Hermione loved Ron, but sometimes Ron couldn't give her what she needed. Of course, she couldn't bring herself to ask him to. He loved her gently, he was considerate, and he was a perfect gentleman. Any other girl would have begged to have Ron as a lover.
As Hermione began to flip the time turner one, two, three times, Ron flew out of her mind. The room spun around her only for a second before she stumbled walking into the same room she was in, only this time she saw herself sitting cross-legged on the bed. The other her smiled and got up slowly. Hermione put her time turner back underneath her shirt and walked towards herself. The two girls looked at each other only for a few seconds before Hermione took hold of the other and shoved her unmercifully against the chest of drawers.
The wall behind her shook violently and a still-life painting banged loudly against the plaster. Hermione gave herself a smug smile and looked herself in the eye.
"I believe I put a silencing spell on this room about 3 hours ago?" The other her nodded, body pressed stiffly against the dresser.
"Good," Hermione said. "Because I've heard that Muggle-born girls scream louder."
And with that, she pulled her slender wand out of her back pocket and flicked it en passé before fluidly putting it back in her pocket. The other Hermione's clothes ripped off her body, resulting in a pile of torn fabric on the ground. Hermione's own garments melted off her body in strips, much more smoothly; everything coming off to rest on the floor. She dug her fingernails deep into the other girl's back, letting the warm flesh engulf her fingertips. Moving her mouth closer to her neck, her fingernails dug even deeper into her back, making the other Hermione whine in pain. The girl against the dresser opened her mouth, as if about to say something in protest.
"Don't…speak. If you must move your mouth…" Hermione put her hand on the other girl's head and pushed her downwards until her jaw was in line with her crotch. Her fingers weaved through the other her's wavy hair as she tilted her head in closer. The other Hermione seemed to take the hint as her tongue snaked its way out of her mouth, both girls parting their tender, moist lips.
Hermione screeched as she felt the hot, wet tongue brush against her body's most sensitive area. Her grip tightened on the other girl's head, and she whimpered in pain.
"Shut…the fuck up!" Hermione breathed, forcing the other girl's head closer to her crotch. The girl on her knees began to suck and nibble, and soon Hermione felt as if she was going to explode. One hand clutching the side of the dresser and the other clutching the other Hermione's head, her body began to shake with waves of pleasure. She could feel her juices spilling out of her, all over the other girl's face, and the thought of the other Hermione getting soaked intensified her orgasm.
Panting and covered with sweat, Hermione dropped down to her knees. She was at eye-level with the other Hermione.
"You're such a fucking mudblood slut," Hermione whispered to herself with a smile, eyeing the vestiges of her own come that coated the other girl's lips. She kissed her, hard, and her right hand made its way in-between the other Hermione's legs.
"My God, Hermione…I've never seen you so wet before." She mumbled into her mouth. Her fingers danced over the other girl's clitoris, teasingly. "Would you want me to…" She began to drag her fingers slowly, painfully, over.
"Please… please!" The other Hermione pleaded, eyes closed and eyebrows raised, hands clutching the carpet in frustration.
Hermione pushed two fingers into the other girl suddenly, forcefully. She sat straight up and whimpered, leg twitching slightly. Hermione continued to push upwards with her fingers, until the other girl had no choice but to stand up. Her fingers still inside, she guided the other girl to the bed and pushed her down on the sheets.
She wrestled herself against the bedpost and pushed her hands behind the post, conjuring up a rope. As Hermione tied the rope painfully tight over her wrists, she could see dark red lines beginning to appear on her own wrists, staining the threaded indentations that decorated her skin like a bracelet. She winced at the pain of the 3-hour old wounds as she tied the rope tighter. Soon, it would be her turn to be on the bottom. Hermione smiled at the thought.